The Rose's Thorns
by Elphaba'sGirl
Summary: Nessarose, the eldest daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland, is engaged to the Duke of Gillikin's son, Jericay. When he meets Elphaba, Nessa's sister, what does it mean when he tells her "we're crazy, you know that?"


**This is the next in my postings of the first chapters of all my stories I might want to finish. It's also the last so everyone look for the poll on my profile and vote!**

**Wicked isn't mine.**

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Munchkinland had been at war with the Glikkus for six weeks, and despite its advantage in size, was losing badly. Most of the battles had been fought in the Glikkus, giving its people the advantage of familiar terrain, and a number of recently discovered spies in Munchkinland's Union Fort had eliminated their chance at surprise.

And until one week ago, the rest of Oz had flatly refused to get involved.

Now, however, the Duke of Gillikin had agreed to fund Munchkinland's efforts, should the governor agree to a marriage between his son and the governor's daughter.

Governor Thropp's daughter, Nessarose, viewed this as her duty to both her father and the Unnamed God, and agreed to it.

Her younger sister, Elphaba, considered arranged marriages primitive and expressed that opinion to Nessa out of their father's earshot.

"I am more than obliged to entertain the well-being of Munchkinland," Nessarose had told her during that conversation. "And I am honor edit hat our people trust me. It's very important that they don't feel that their trust in me in unwarranted."

Elphaba had snorted. "Yes. It's absolutely essential to have the support of a nation full of midgets."

Nessarose had sniffed in response. "There's no need to be derogatory, Elphaba."

And that was how it came to bet hat Elphaba sat next to her sister, across from the Duke's son, Jericay. Jericay was an Ernest young man of 22 years, making him three years older than Nessa and six years older than Elphaba herself.

Nessarose expertly made small talk with the Marquis, asking about his interests and talents, as well as general Gillikin happenings.

"I mainly stay away from town gossip. Nothing good comes of it," Jericay said, and Elphaba felt a tiny inkling of respect for her sister's fiancé form against her will.

"A wise decision," Frex said approvingly.

The conversation carried on in this way for the duration of the meal, with Nessarose attempting to keep the topic on Jericay, and Jericay modestly trying to keep it off of himself.

Eventually, though, they settled into an account of Jericay's younger sister's crazy endeavors. A few times over the course of an hour, Elphaba opened her mouth to comment on something, but her father glared at her and she didn't say anything.

Later that night, the Thropp sisters sat in Nessarose's room, Nessa brushing her deep red hair and twisting it into a loose braid.

Nessarose really did look like their mother, Elphaba thought. Melena Thropp had taken to nearly constant travel. She was currently in the Emerald City, though she'd be heading somewhere else within the week, Elphaba knew.

In fact, Melena's travels had been, essentially, what had started the war. When in the Glikkus six weeks prior, she'd drunkenly offended a nobleman of that state, and- as in the Glikkus people were quite defensive and warlike- the war had thus begun, and yet Melena was not present to help her husband during this time.

Elphaba, who regarded her mother as a kind of temperamental goddess, found this completely inappropriate, but the ever-innocent Nessarose thought other wise.

Perhaps, Elphaba thought, she really had been brainwashed by their father.

It was true; Frexspar found his young wife's endeavors only amusing, not dangerous, despite the war, and Elphaba wasn't about to voice her opinion to him.

"Hand me my pink dress, Elphaba," Nessarose ordered, breaking into her sister's thoughts.

Elphaba did as instructed, and Nessa pulled the dress over her white slip, then Elphaba laced up the back without being asked.

Nessarose frowned at her reflection in the mirror over her vanity, her shiny red lips curving down into an elegant pout. She undid the braid, letting her thick hair tumble down over her shoulders. The frown vanished, but what took its place was not exactly a smile.

"How do I look, Elphaba?" She asked.

"Beautiful," Elphaba said blandly. As if she'd tell Nessa if she didn't look positively gorgeous. "Remind me why you're doing this Nessarose?"

Nessa shrugged. "Well, I want to get to know Jer. We are going to be married after all."

"Well, yes," Elphaba agreed. "But why must you host a party to get to know him?"

Nessa practiced smiling in the mirror. It was meant to be sweet, but Elphaba found it vaguely sadistic. "It's a welcoming party. My white shawl."

Elphaba handed her the shawl. "But during a time a war, Nessarose?"

Nessa waved a hand. "The war is just a passing thing. My gloves."

Elphaba slid the embroidered fabric gloves over her sister's alabaster fingers with her own jade green ones.

"Still, Nessarose, I think-"

"Remind me when I've cared what you think?"

Elphaba looked at the floor, her long ebony hair falling like a curtain over her face.

Nessa cocked her head, then smiled a wicked smile. "That's what I thought."

She stood from where she was seated at her vanity and patted Elphaba's bowed, dark head in a mock-comforting manner.

"I'll see you after the party. Be here to assist me." She left the room, leaving Elphaba alone.

**What is my thing with Ozian men having names like that? There was Jerimaine in picture frame, Jerome in a oneshot, and now Jericay. Whatevs.**

**Favorite lines?**


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